But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good,
Oh Lord, Please don't let me be misunderstood- Benjamin, Marcus, Caldwell
Martin slowly awoke to a painfully throbbing hand and a dull headache. He looked at his watch and was a little startled to see that it was almost two in the afternoon. Groggily rising from bed still fully dressed from the day before, he tried a door he hoped was the bathroom but turned out to be an empty closet. He tried a second door and discovered the facilities that he needed to put to immediate use. Feeling greatly relieved, he traveled to the sink and wondered how to best resolve the dilemma of washing his hands when one was thoroughly bandaged. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and winced. He was sporting an impressive shiner and an interesting purple bruise on the side of his face where the bald man had struck him. His mind not up to speed, he left his hands unwashed and made his way out into the hall with the intention of finding something to eat. He hadn't set one foot into the kitchen when Bailey's voice startled him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Satterfield."
"Uhm…" he said, looking around and finally spotting her sitting in front of the piano but staring out the window. "Good afternoon."
"Your bag is on the kitchen table, Mr. Satterfield," she said. "Where's the gun?"
"Gun?" He looked at her stupidly.
"There was a box of ammunition and a loaded magazine for a Glock handgun in your belongings. Where is it?"
"Oh, I lost it when they tried to get me at home. I forgot I had the other magazine," he said and she was quiet for several minutes.
"I see," she said finally. "There's breakfast in the oven for you, but I'm afraid it's probably cold by now. You can heat it up if you like."
"You made breakfast?"
"You sound surprised."
"I guess I am kinda."
Why?"
"I dunno really."
"You read my file, Mr. Satterfield. Did it not mention that I'm capable of cooking breakfast? Or did it only portray me as capable of butchering people?"
Martin took several seconds to formulate his response. "I'm afraid that it was rather limited in regards to the subject matter."
Bailey didn't answer and after a moment, she returned her gaze to the window. Martin eventually walked over to the oven and checked the temperature of the eggs, bacon, and hash browns she had left for him, they were cold to the touch so he closed the door and turned on the oven. She still hadn't spoken so he ambled over to the table and sat down to order his thoughts.
"Have they contacted you?"
"Why would they contact me, Mr. Satterfield?"
"Because I'm sure they know I'm here."
She turned around on the bench and faced him. "When did you start running?"
"I took the file Monday night, they tried to kill me Tuesday morning."
"I see, did you go into work on Tuesday?"
"No."
"Then you should be aware of a couple of things. Firstly, I'm considered a rogue operative as of Tuesday morning and secondly, they know exactly where you are."
"A rogue? What does that mean exactly?"
"That means I've cut all ties to the Organization and am targeted for elimination."
"They're going to kill you?"
"It means that they're going to try."
"Why haven't they tried already?"
"Because they don't want to lose any Organization assets. And if they initially failed, I would present an even greater security risk. I'd imagine with you and the file, the danger of that has at least tripled in their eyes so they'll be far more cautious in moving against me. In fact, they would have to be very confident in their success to even make an attempt."
"By security risk are you talking about going public?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to do that?"
"No."
"What are you going to do?
"I'm going to win, Mr. Satterfield."
Martin spent several minutes considering that statement. "You can't kill them all."
"Sure I can, but I don't think that'll be necessary." She stood up. "I'll be back in a moment," she said as she disappeared down a hallway.
Bailey walked to her office and sat down at her computer. She entered the number that she had procrastinated all morning over dialing and watched the monitor until it was answered.
"Watts."
"Good day, Major."
"Ah, was beginning to wonder about you," he said jovially and her mood perked up.
"Tell me."
"They exist and the PM has instructed our Ambassador to grant them immunity and asylum at our embassy in the United States."
Bailey closed her eyes for several minutes, feeling like she could cry for the first time in a decade.
"Are you there?"
"Yes, I'm sorry, Major."
"Quite alright."
"I've one more favor to ask."
"No need. I've already arranged to have them moved and will personally see to their safety. I've been waiting for your call and will be on their doorstep in four hours with a security detachment. I will personally see them to the States and will remain with them for as long as you need me to."
"That's above and beyond, Major. Thank you."
"It is the very least I can do. The PM was quite incensed to find two subjects of the Crown under the thumb of your ex-employers. I've done some research and it seems their names have been changed at least three times and they've been relocated nine times over the last fifteen years."
"Tell them, that soon they can live anywhere they want for as long as they want."
"Will you be coming to see them then?"
"I don't know."
"I see, when shall I expect to hear from you again."
"Within the next thirty days."
"Very good."
"My thanks, Major."
"Very welcome."
"Oh, by the way, any hits on my paper?"
"None."
"Very well, I'll be in touch."
"Take care, my friend."
Martin was polishing off the last of his reheated breakfast when Bailey emerged from the hall. He experienced a flash of fear as she made a beeline right for him, but she stopped at the table and sat down in a chair across from him. She began an intent examination of him that lasted several minutes while he studied his plate and grew extremely nervous.
"Thank you, Mr. Satterfield."
"I… I don't understand," he said, confused and a little scared.
"Because of you my family will be safely inside the United States by this time tomorrow."
"You found them?"
"Yes, they were in Southampton like you said."
"Are they coming here to Atlanta?"
"No, they'll be safely nestled away in the British Embassy until I can come for them."
"The British? I would've thought…"
"You would've thought that I hated the British," she finished for him.
"Yes."
"I gave into hate once, Mr. Satterfield. It led me down a road that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.
"I don't understand."
"I hope you never do, Mr. Satterfield."
Any chance of a response on his part was nullified by the ringing of her cell phone.
"Cameron."
"Hi," she said with a bright smile that cut off abruptly as her eyes tracked to Martin, who appeared to be studiously trying not to listen.
"Can you hold on a second?" she said as she got up and disappeared down the hallway again.
Martin had a lot to think about and was vaguely aware that he should be very worried over the information that she had given him earlier. However, it didn't seem to phase her, so he pretty much decided to leave the situation in her capable hands. If The Wraith was considered a rogue, Terry would have to be going apeshit by now. The thought brought both a smile to his face and a question to his mind that he very much wanted an answer to. Fortunately, she came back into the room while it was still fresh on his mind.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Alright."
"Is Terry a target?"
"Why would you want to know that, Mr. Satterfield?"
"Because it's the question that led me to read and inevitably steal your file."
"I'll answer if you tell me why you wanted to read my file and how you came to see it in the first place, considering very few people would have access to it. And you tell me why you stole it."
"I read it because I suspected Terry might attempt to remove me and I needed an ally. I also suspected that you didn't voluntarily remove yourself from inactive status and I believed Terry's motives were personal. However, I couldn't figure out how he got you to participate if you didn't want to. I put two and two together when I read the file and realized that he was using your family against you." He stopped to gauge her reaction, which was unreadable. "As to how I came to see it, I found out that Terry kept the file in his office instead of secure storage. I had a keycard to his office and I knew where he hid the keys to his desk. I ended up stealing the file because the keycard wouldn't let me back into his office. I had to run."
"I see. How did you know my family's whereabouts?"
"I saw a field report for Terry's eyes only from Southampton referring to a Bennigan. Apparently, your brother had an accident at work and had to be transported to a hospital. He turned out to be fine, but the incident was reported to Terry."
"What kind of accident?"
"The report didn't specify, it did however mention that he was back at work two days later so I'm sure it wasn't serious. We had no active Ops in the UK at the time and when I read your file it clicked into place."
"Pretty clever," she said. "Well, except for the keycard. Were you aware that after a certain hour a pin number has to be entered as well?"
"Uhm… I am now."
He risked a glance at her, and it amazed him at what an attractive woman she actually was.
"I'd almost figured you for a lucky fool, Mr. Satterfield. I see now that would've been a wrong assessment."
"Dare I ask why?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.
"I figured anyone trying to avoid attention in a bright orange Gremlin, was either a complete idiot or was possessed with a touch of genius," she said with an amused smile.
"It really is my mother's car," he said in his defense. "My mother left it to me when she retired to Florida and it was still in her name. It had been in storage for several years. No one knew I had it so it seemed the perfect getaway car."
"Well it got you here."
"Do you know how they found me?"
"They ran a incoming source trace on my contact line. The line didn't register tampering until I disconnected."
"Really? So you knew they were coming after me?"
"Yes."
"Alright, is Terry a target?"
"Mr. McKraken will not survive this ordeal."
"You realize that he's probably locked down the building. It would be next to impossible to get to him."
"I'm sure the building is locked down. I'm also sure that all pending Ops have been canceled and every available man is currently on the way to Atlanta, that is if they aren't here already. Terry also has several people planted as employees in my corporation and I'm already followed when I leave the building."
"This doesn't seem to bother you. Why is that?"
"Why should it?"
"Because they're going to kill you."
"Like I said, they're going to try, Mr. Satterfield. Besides, they won't move against me unless they're sure they can cover all the bases."
"You say there are people working for the Organization in this building?"
"Yes."
"That's kinda of scary."
"No one can access this floor but myself, you're perfectly safe here." She paused and considered. "Let me ask you a question or more accurately I would…uhm… like some advice on a …uh… personal matter."
"Uhm… sure."
"If you were to be asked over to…uhm… dinner for a … well, a date… is there anything that you would bring?"
Martin gaped at her. He couldn't believe that she was concerned with such a trivial matter when there were potential assassins coming out of the woodwork.
"Well?" she asked a little peevishly when he didn't answer immediately.
"I'm sorry," he said, bringing his full attention to the matter at hand. "Is the dinner at this person's home?"
"Yes," she said, noting that she leaned forward a little in her chair.
"Is this a relatively new relationship?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'd probably bring a bottle of wine or flowers if I really liked the person. But I'm not sure what a guy would think if he got flowers," he speculated.
"It's not a guy and what kind of wine would you bring?"
"Uhm…I… uh…" he started, trying to get past his initial surprise. "I would bring a zinfandel, that would pretty much go with anything that …uhm… she might feed you."
"I see," she answered, leaning back in her chair to consider the advice. "What kind of flowers?"
"Well…uhm…I would get roses for a … well a date," he said, feeling uncomfortable and not sure why.
"Why roses?"
"Because they supposedly represent love."
"Love?"
"Yes. Roses convey a romantic interest beyond friendship or a passionate love," he answered and she grew quiet for several minutes before she reached into her pocket for the cell phone. She stopped before she dialed.
"How many roses would be appropriate?"
"How many dates have you had?"
"This'll be the second."
"Half a dozen would be fine I think."
She dialed a number into the phone. "Tom? Yes, this is Bailey. I was wondering if you or one your guys would do me a favor?"
"Yes, could you send someone out to purchase me a half dozen roses, please?" she asked and then frowned. "Yes, roses," she repeated.
"Uhm… hold on." She muted the phone and looked at Martin.
"Red roses?" she asked and he nodded.
"In a vase or in paper?"
"Paper."
"Tom?" she said into the phone. "That would be red and in paper."
"Just use a company draft, no wait." She considered. "Take it out of petty cash and I'll reimburse it later."
"Alright, I'll pick them up at the security desk around 6:30. Thanks, Tom."
She sat quietly for several minutes after hanging up, eventually returning her attention to Martin. "Thanks for the advice, Mr. Satterfield."
"You're welcome."
"I've some things to look into and will be out again tonight. Is there anything you need?"
"I don't think so," he said. "But I do have one more question if you don't mind?"
"Alright."
"What happens to me?"
"You get to lay around here for a few weeks and then you get your life back, Mr. Satterfield," she said as if it were obvious.
"Would you mind telling me how that's going to take place?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Have you considered that things might not work out as planned?"
"Sure, there's a lot of things that could go wrong. But I'll win anyways."
"What makes you so certain of that?" he asked, hoping she could convince him and he waited several seconds for a response. He looked up at her and noted with a mixture of awe and dread that her entire bearing had changed rather suddenly. Gone was the pretty young woman and in her place was a predator with inhumanly cold and merciless eyes.
"Because unfortunately, Mr. Satterfield. I am The Wraith."
II
And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand- J. Rzeznik
"Andrew, I want two men at the door at all times," Jeremy Watts said to his man as he surveyed the small two-story flat in which the Cameron's resided.
"Right, sir," Andrew replied.
"I'll speak with them alone," he said with a careful look at Andrew, who was a slight and pale man with dark features.
"While I'm in there, please inform the movers and the rest of the men that the Cameron's and their belongings are to be treated with the utmost respect."
"Yes, sir."
"Stay alert," he said as he got out of the car and walked up a short flight of steps that led to the door. He rang the bell and waited patiently until a well-built, handsome young man answered the door. He stood over six feet tall and had dark brown eyes with almost black hair.
"Can I help you?" he asked with an Irish accent.
"Yes, I'm Jeremy Watts with MI6, and I would like to speak privately with you and your mother, please."
"Your identification," the man demanded in a suddenly hostile tone.
"Of course," Jeremy said, producing his credentials. "May I come in?"
The man opened the door all the way and stepped aside for him. "I'll get my mother, but I'm afraid you're going to be in for a fight," he said peevishly, leaving Jeremy standing at the entrance to the living room.
Jeremy waited patiently, his eyes taking in his surroundings and his attention landing on several family photographs that sat upon a dresser. He crossed the room and studied them intently while he waited. With a twinge of sadness, he noted that several pictures included a smiling raven-haired girl with happy black eyes that were a far cry from the eyes of the woman he knew. He had done some investigating on his own and learned that Bailey Cameron was officially listed as dead from the same gunfire that killed her father and brother. He wondered if he would ever get the whole story.
"Mr. Watts, is it?" a female voice startled him.
"Yes, it is," he said, turning to find a woman with graying black hair and sparkling green eyes staring at him from across the room.
"I won't move again, Mr. Watts."
"I'm sorry?"
"My son said you were from MI6. I'll not move again."
"Do you mind if I sit down, Mrs. Cameron?" he asked, noticing the surprise on her face with the use of her real name.
She gestured to the chair in front of him and he took a seat.
"How did you come to have the name Bennigan, Mrs. Cameron?"
"You should know, MI6 has changed our names and moved us around for last fifteen years."
"You only very recently came to the attention of MI6, Mrs. Cameron. We have at no time been involved in your affairs."
"What kind of shit are you shoveling?" she asked with narrowed eyes. "You've been stinking up our lives for the better part of two decades."
"Mrs. Cameron, you have been manipulated by an American agency. I'm here to put a stop to it."
"You're gonna have to do better than that, Mr. Watts," she said as she took a seat in the chair across from him.
"Would you tell me the reason behind your original name change and relocation, please?"
She stared at him without speaking for almost a minute.
"About a year after most of my family was murdered, Mr. Watts. We were approached by MI6, who informed us that we were in danger from the British and through misunderstanding, faced retaliation from the IRA itself. Having only my fourteen year old son left, I agreed to their offer of safe haven and because I did, my son and I have lost our names and have been uprooted too many times to count."
"Mrs. Cameron, before today, at no time has a member of any branch of British Intelligence approached you. The only danger that you've ever been in is from the people who have manipulated you."
"And who might these people be, Mr. Watts?" she asked sarcastically.
"A branch of the American Central Intelligence Agency, Mrs. Cameron."
"Why would the Americans care about an Irish family?"
"That's not a question I can answer at this time."
"Why not?"
"I cannot answer as a request to a friend; a friend that is aware of your situation and knows you are in danger."
"A friend to you or to me, Mr. Watts?"
"Both, Mrs. Cameron."
"What do you want of us?"
"I'm here at the request of my friend and with the permission of the Prime Minister to transport you to the British Embassy in the United States where you have been granted asylum."
"If what you say is true, why would I want to go to the United States, if we're supposedly in danger from them to begin with?"
"It is at the request of your benefactor, Mrs. Cameron."
"And who exactly would my benefactor be?"
"A person who has much to risk and wishes fervently that you comply with their request. This person has also empowered me to inform you that soon you can live wherever you want, for as long as you want. But it is imperative that you comply with their request."
Doreen was quiet for sometime as she considered his words, inspecting him closely for any hint of deceit. She was more than a little disturbed that she could find no trace of falsehood about the man and she had to admit to a raging curiosity about her mysterious benefactor.
"And if I refuse?" she asked finally.
"If you refuse, I will personally take up residence here and will have a security detachment surrounding you around the clock, until you either comply with the wishes of your benefactor or I am informed that you are no longer in danger."
"You seem to have a personal stake here, Mr. Watts."
"It's more a matter of honor, Mrs. Cameron."
"How so?"
"Some years back your benefactor was mine as well and went through a considerable effort to save my life when it would have been prudent not to do so."
"Do I get to meet this mysterious person?"
"Eventually, I believe so, yes."
"You say this person is at risk, why?"
"Your benefactor is currently a target of the agency that poses a potential threat to you."
"Are you telling me that the American government is going to kill this person."
"Not the American government as a whole, but an agency that operates outside of governmental restrictions. And I think they will try, I doubt they will succeed."
"Why don't you think they'll succeed?"
"Your benefactor is tremendously formidable, Mrs. Cameron. It would be my guess that within a month the situation will be resolved."
"Why a month?"
"Because that is when I was informed that your benefactor would again be in contact with me."
She got up from her chair and paced slowly around the room. "Mr. Watts, I'm a little out of sorts that I can't find any hint of a lie upon you."
"I know this must all seem very cloak and dagger, Mrs. Cameron. And I know a lot of what I've told you is vague, and I've offered very little information to convince you that what I say is true. But I ask you to believe me and to place trust in your benefactor who has only your safety in mind."
"It would help a great deal if you told me who this person is and why they seem to care about our safety."
"It would indeed simplify matters. However, I was asked not to reveal that information."
"Mr. Watts, I'm afraid that I can't uproot my son, who is engaged, on the basis of what you've told me."
"His fiancé may come with us, Mrs. Cameron."
"That wouldn't be fair to either of them," she said. "I'm afraid I can't comply with your wishes or those of my so called benefactor, Mr. Watts."
Jeremy sat in his chair and thought long and hard. Studying the woman intently, he was convinced from the stubborn set of her jaw that any further attempts at persuasion would be ultimately rejected. Deciding to give a little and hoping that he was making the right decision, he walked over to the dresser and picked up a picture that portrayed the entire Cameron family.
"I'm very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Cameron," he said, looking at the picture. "Your daughter is very lovely."
"Yes, she was," Doreen corrected sadly.
"Mrs. Cameron, I cannot and will not elaborate further, so please do not ask me to."
Doreen stopped her pacing at the man's words and stood behind her chair. From his tone she had the sudden and overwhelming feeling that he was about to drop a bomb in her lap. She moved around to the front of her chair and sat down gingerly, locking eyes with the man and nodding slowly.
"I don't know all the details, Mrs. Cameron. But your benefactor has evidently been looking for you for a very long time. Your safety is of great concern to her. Please reconsider your decision." He put the picture down and walked briskly to the door without looking at her. "I'm stepping outside for a puff, I'll be back shortly," he said as he opened the door and stepped outside.
Doreen sat in her chair and circulated the words he had spoken through her mind for several minutes, a startled gasp escaping as she considered the ramifications of his statement. She sprang from her chair, closing the distance between her and the photograph that he had handled in a bounding leap. Her eyes focused in on the image of her long dead but beautiful daughter, managing to trace the outline of her face with the tip of a finger before her knees refused to support her and she collapsed to the floor with the photograph clutched to her chest. Was it possible? She had seen the body, but had she really looked? It had been an unspeakably grievous time and one glance at the mangled form that had been her exquisite daughter was all that she could stand. Was she out there right now?
"Ryan!" she screamed.
A crash came from above followed by rapidly pounding footsteps as her son came flying down the stairs seconds later, coming to a sputtering and anxious halt as soon as he spotted his mother on the floor.
"Are you alright, Mum?"
"Get your floozy over here right now. We're going to America."
"We currently have thirty assets in Atlanta now, the rest will arrive within the next two days. Surveillance has already begun; Mike Donnelly is coordinating and has them based at the Hyatt Regency. The rest of our assets are spread out among the area hotels as you requested," Bob said.
"Good," Terry said. "Who would you say is the best candidate to take charge of our confrontation people?"
"Dwight Robards, he's the most experienced."Is he on location yet?"
"No, his ETA is the day after tomorrow."
"Very well, unless anyone objects, we'll go with him," Terry said. "Mr. Phillips has looked into finding a base of operations and has located a two-story office building for lease. It's a good deal more isolated from the business district than I would've liked, but it suits our purposes very well. We should be able to base everyone out of there by Wednesday. What's the story on her movement, Bob?"
"She apparently left the building last night at 6:10pm and picked up a female later identified as Piper Tate. From the Tate residence, they proceeded to a restaurant and apparently had dinner. After which, Cameron drove her home and arrived back at C-Corp at 11:47pm. No movement outside the building since then," Bob reported. "Do we know who Piper Tate is?" he asked.
"According to Marland, she's Cameron's choice to eventually oversee Operations at C-Corp. Tate is apparently already in charge on an interim basis." Terry said.
"A business dinner then?"
"More than likely," Terry replied just as the phone in front of him rang suddenly
His testicles started to hurt immediately; any call routed to his station in the Situation room was undoubtedly bad news. His arm shot out to answer it and he listened to the urgent voice on the other end attentively.
"What?!" he screamed, springing from his chair and causing everyone at the table to cringe at the sound of his voice.
"Get them back, goddamn it!" he screamed into the phone. "What?!"
With a crimson face he listened intently to the voice on the other end of the phone, slowly sinking back down in his chair.
"Did you see the man in charge?"
"I see, it doesn't make a difference anyways, you're all done there. Pack it up and report to Mr. Robards in Atlanta, Georgia."
He stared at the phone for a few seconds before he yanked it from the table and threw it as hard as he could at a nearby glass partition. The phone ricocheted violently from the bulletproof glass and crashed loudly to the floor. Having received very little satisfaction, he sat down hard in his chair and quietly fumed, red-faced for several minutes.
Bob opened his mouth to speak but closed it as Terry raised a hand and turned in his seat to present everyone with the back of his chair. Rapid-fire glances were exchanged around the table in confusion and everyone looked at Bob silently for some sort of explanation. Noticing all the expectant glances, he could only shrug to show everyone he was as ignorant of the situation as they were. They sat in a growing uncomfortable environment for close to half an hour before Terry finally spoke.
"Cameron evidently has some allies, gentlemen," he started quietly, not bothering to turn in his chair.
"What's the story, Terry?" Bob finally braved.
"The story is, Bob." Terry turned his chair around to face the table. "Cameron just regained possession of her family and they are now out of our hands."
"How did she manage that?" Keith asked.
"No idea, but a heavily manned and fully armed security detail just drove away with her family."
"Where were they located, Terry?" Bob asked.
"England."
"British Intelligence?" Keith asked
"I would assume so, yes," Terry answered.
"The British should be the last people she would turn to for help," Bob said.
"She apparently has friends among them," Keith said. "In fact, she's worked all over the world for years, she probably has contacts everywhere."
"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," Terry said, rising to his feet. "I believe I'm going to get some sleep on this turn of events," he said tiredly as he made his way from the room without any further comment.
Piper burst through the front door, juggling her purse and two bags of groceries.
"Nanny!" she called as she kicked off her shoes and headed for the kitchen.
She sat the bags on the counter and hurriedly began unpacking the contents. She foraged through the cabinets, producing a large metal pot that she filled with water and placed on the stove.
"Nanny!" she yelled again as she put a pinch of salt in the water and turned on the burner.
"What?" Nancy said as she emerged from the hall.
"Help me cook dinner, I'm running late."
"Late? I didn't know there was a set time for dinner around here."
"Bailey's coming for dinner at 7:30. Help me, please?" She turned a pleading look on her friend.
"Oh, man."
"Oh, man, what?"
"How much do you really know about her, Pippy?"
Piper looked at her carefully and debated how to answer the question. "I know that I care for her very much and that I asked her to dinner here tonight. Why?"
"How much, Pippy? You've only known her for a few days."
"A lot, what's your problem? She said last night that she didn't think you liked her. Did you say something to her?"
"I didn't say anything to her and it's not that I don't like her, it's more like I'm afraid of her."
"What?"
"She's scary, Pippy."
"That's ridiculous. I'll admit that she can be rather intense, but you get to know her a little and she's really very sweet."
"How well do you know her, Pippy?
"I'm hoping to get know her very well," Piper said with narrowed eyes.
"I don't know if you should."
"That's not for you to decide, but I would appreciate it if you could at least be courteous to her when she comes over tonight."
"Look I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
"I'm sorry too, but I'll say this, she's been on her own a very long time. She's also completely inexperienced, but she's really smart and she picks things up very quickly, so don't make her any more uncomfortable than she already is."
"I won't, Pippy. I'm just a little concerned is all."
"Concerned enough to spy on us last night from the spare bedroom?"
"How did…" she trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.
"I didn't, she knew you were there."
"Alright, I was spying. I really don't know why."
Piper glared at her until she thought her friend was properly chastened. "Give her a chance, Nanny. Please? I don't think she's had very many. And I think she's really special."
"I will," she said contritely with downcast eyes. "What have you decided I'm going to cook for your date?" she asked, hoping to breeze past the situation.
"Spaghetti and meatballs," Piper said with a reprieving smile as Nancy came around the counter and into the kitchen.
"My favorite," Nancy said sarcastically. "Am I banished to my bedroom for the night?"
"Of course, but I'll let you eat before your confinement."
"Thank you, Warden."
"Po-lease," Piper said, rolling her eyes. "I spent almost an entire month in my room when you dated that ugly guy, what was his name, Spunker?"
"It was Spencer. And he wasn't that ugly," Nancy said indignantly.
"Spare me, the guy had enough hair on his back to make a cat."
"He did not!"
"God, and his face. You never told me what happened to him."
"There wasn't anything wrong with his face."
"He looked like he fell from the ugly tree face first into a waffle iron."
"Are you finished?"
"Wait, I think I have one more," Piper said, pretending to think.
"Keep it to yourself or I'll tell the Princess of Darkness that I cooked her dinner."
"That's not completely true, I already set the water out to boil," Piper said in her defense.
"Go get ready or she'll be afraid to eat anything you offer her after tonight."
"Thanks, Nanny," she said, beaming a smile at her friend as she flounced out of the kitchen to vanish down the hall.
"It doesn't look that bad."
"Gee, thanks."
"You can take the hat off, it's getting dark."
"Please shut the fuck up," Zack said as he took off his baseball cap to reveal an incredibly short and lopsided crew cut. The inch of pale white skin above both ears contrasting sharply with the much darker skin tone of his face.
He let out a long sigh and sank a little in his seat, flipping down the visor in front of him and wincing as he studied his new haircut in the little mirror. He slapped the visor back up with irritation and glanced sideways at his asshole partner. It had been a long day and as predicted their boss had not been pleased to find him with dried gum all over one side of his hair. Mike had looked at both of them knowingly and after several choice comments eluding to their incompetence and all around stupidity, he had refused to relieve them and had placed them on night surveillance for the next week. They were only allowed an hour to dump their shit in the hotel room and clean themselves up so he had been forced to use a beard trimmer to cut his hair. With less than satisfactory results, he had emerged from the bathroom to have Russell thoughtfully provide him with a baseball cap that proclaimed him to be a 'Sex Machine'. He would have cheerfully shoved the ridiculous cap up his ass but Russell had shrewdly given it to him in Mike's presence, so he had been forced to place it on his head and had walked back to the car with all the dignity he could muster. The thing that really chapped his ass was that he swore he saw Mike crack a fucking grin as he walked away.
"There's our hotrod, call it in," Russell said, starting the car.
Zack looked through the binoculars at the Barracuda that had just emerged from the parking garage. He wished that the windows of the car weren't tinted so he could get a good luck at the woman in person, from the pictures provided he had ascertained that she was indeed quite the looker. Not that he had any hope of attracting anyone with his current and incredibly fucking asinine hairstyle. With a frown, he grabbed the cell phone to report her movement.
They followed for about ten minutes until she pulled into the parking lot of a liquor store and went inside.
"Ya know for somebody who knows she's a target, she carries on like it's the least of her fucking concerns," Russell said.
"No kidding."
"I don't know why we have to follow her around if they ain't gonna try and take her down. I mean it wouldn't be hard to bag her from here with a rifle round."
"You heard the lecture today. She knows we're here and for no reason whatsoever are we to engage her."
"Yeah, I heard. But it would be so easy."
"Russell, just between you and me, I think that chick would be all over us if she even suspected she was in danger."
"What? She acts like she doesn't have a care in the world."
"She knows exactly what she's doing or they wouldn't be so worked up about her. Besides, I got to thinking about some of the shit I've heard about The Wraith over the years."
"And?"
"And watching that chick wander around openly like she is, makes me think that maybe some of the stories I've heard aren't all that farfetched."
"So what do you think the hold up is?"
"On what?"
"Why haven't we moved on her yet?"
"I dunno, but Mike said that we'll be moving into an office building next week so I bet we'll be here for awhile."
"I hope not, it's embarrassing driving around with you and that retarded haircut," Russell said with a huge grin. "I feel like I'm chaperoning an envoy of the Special Olympics or something," he finished with a chuckle.
"Do yourself a favor, Russell. And don't piss me off anymore than you already have."
Russell's grin faded swiftly and he wisely refrained from commenting. He studied the scenery with a keen interest to avoid the glare being aimed at him until they were following the Barracuda again.
"This is the same way we went last night," Zack said after a few moments.
"She's probably going to see the redhead again. Did you get the night scope out of the trunk?"
"Way ahead of you. It's in the back seat."
"Cool. You think she's a dyke?"
"Let's hope so," Zack said and they both laughed.
"Yep, she's going to the redhead's house, this is the same neighborhood. Should we call it in?"
"Let's wait and see if they go out again first."
They watched the Barracuda pull up into the driveway and Russell pulled over to the side and parked.
"Are those flowers?"
"Yep, roses," Russell confirmed. "A hot date, perhaps?"
"Perhaps," Zack agreed as he watched her disappear into the house.
"I got first dibs on the night scope."
"Fuck you, we settle it in the usual manner."
III
And I want to be with you,
Be with you night and day- Hewson, Evans, Clayton, Mullen
"Do I look okay?" Piper asked as soon as the doorbell rang.
"You look great, although you forgot to stencil 'Easy' on your forehead," Nancy said, chuckling at her own joke.
"I'll let that one slide only because it was kinda funny," Piper said as she turned and walked to the door. She stopped at the mirror in the entry to give herself the once over before she opened the door to discover Bailey bearing gifts.
"Are those for me?" she asked excitedly.
"Yes," Bailey said shyly and presented her with the flowers, smiling when Piper did a little hop and took the roses from her hand. The smile got larger when Piper leaned in close and kissed her.
"They're beautiful, thank you. Come on in."
Bailey crossed the threshold and Piper closed the door behind her. With a smile, Piper took her hand and led her to the kitchen where Nancy was seated upon a barstool.
"Let me put these in water," she said, letting go of Bailey's hand.
"Hi, Bailey," Nancy said.
"Hello."
"I made spaghetti and meatballs, I hope that's alright," Piper said with a sly grin at Nancy as she ran water into a vase. "Nanny helped a little, but I'm afraid that she's only capable of the basics, like boiling water," she added, amused with herself.
"Yes, I'd probably starve without Pippy around," Nancy said sarcastically, shooting an annoyed glance at Piper.
Bailey listened to the interplay between the two with slight confusion, but shrugged it off as she watched Piper fuss with her flowers. She turned a casual look upon Nancy, who was a pretty girl, almost as petite as Piper but with light brown hair and eyes.
"What do you do for a living, Nancy?"
"I'm a flight attendant with TWA," she said with a look at Bailey, instantly wondering if the woman was aware of just how penetrating her eyes were.
"Piper said you two have known each other since you were kids?"
"Oh yeah," Nancy said with a smile and Piper, who was observing both of them carefully, stiffened slightly. "I could tell you all kinds of things about her if you like."
"Nanny," Piper warned, dismayed when Bailey put the bottle of wine on the counter and took a seat on the barstool next to Nancy's.
"Okay," Bailey said far too enthusiastically for Piper's taste.
"Nanny, isn't it time for your medication?" Piper intruded.
"No, I took it an hour ago, why don't you put the wine Bailey brought in the fridge before it gets warm," Nancy said, giving Bailey her full attention.
"What do you want to know? I have many, many gems of information to share," she said and almost giggled when she heard Piper mumble under her breath.
"Was she always pretty?"
Piper, who was hurriedly sorting through escape plans, caught her breath at the question. It wasn't a question asked out of a playful teasing but one asked from an innocent curiosity. She realized that Bailey wasn't aware of the slightly mean-spirited game Nancy had instigated and had just asked because she truly wanted to know. It was deeply touching and, looking at her innocently awaiting Nancy's answer, she began to suspect that hard was not a strong enough word to describe how badly she had fallen.
"Uhm… yes," Nancy said. "Yes, she was always pretty." .
As soon as Nancy responded, Piper came around the counter and gently placed a hand on Bailey's back. She felt the muscles under her hand move slightly with the contact but she rubbed a soft circle on her back with her palm and was pleased when she felt Bailey lean into her hand.
"You're very sweet," she said to Bailey, kissing her quickly on the cheek before turning narrowed eyes upon Nancy. "And you are out past your curfew, or should I brandish my rapier-like wit and discuss the many gems of information I can happily provide about you."
"Oh, look what time it is. I'm going to miss my shows," Nancy said, hopping up from her stool. "Bailey it was nice to see you again, you kids have fun," she finished, hoping for a painless escape as she padded down the hall.
Piper watched her until she disappeared and then turned to Bailey with a smile. "So, how was your day?"
"It was very good."
"Really?"
"Yes, how did your day go? Is everything going alright."
"Yes, busy though."
"Have you looked into getting an assistant?"
"I haven't had the time the last couple of days."
"I see, I'll look into getting one for you tomorrow and you should move into John's office so you can be closer to your staff."
"Uhm…okay."
"What's wrong?"
"It just seems a little quick to be setting up camp in his office."
"I can understand that, but you need to acclimate yourself as soon as possible and you need to be easily accessible to the staff."
"Alright."
"It'll be fine. The word is, you're doing a terrific job but you need to delegate a little more. Let others do the work and step in when asked or needed."
"You've been checking up on me?" Piper asked with a little smile.
"Of course, I want you to do well, for…uhm…a variety of reasons."
"Such as?"
"Well, there's the business aspect, but mainly because I…uhm…want to spend time with you and I don't want you to wear yourself out."
"That sounds like a plan then, because I want to spend time with you too," Piper said, moving around to stand in front of her. "I thought about you all day, ya know?"
"You did?"
"Yep, and I want a smooch before dinner."
"What's a smooch?"
"This," Piper said, leaning forward to kiss her gently.
"I knew what a smooch was," Bailey admitted and Piper chuckled at her.
"Have a seat at the table and I'll get dinner," Piper said with a light slap to Bailey's leg.
"Okay."
"What kind of dressing do you want with your salad?" Piper asked while getting everything together.
"None, please."
"None?"
"I don't like dressing on my salad."
"I've never met anyone who ate their salad dry," Piper said, setting a plate and silverware in front of Bailey who just shrugged her shoulders.
"Did you want to try the wine with dinner or did you want something else with your food?"
"Whatever you're having."
"I'm gonna have a Coke with dinner, is that okay?"
"Coke sucks, do you have a Pepsi?" Bailey said turning around when Piper laughed.
"Gee, why don't you tell me how you really feel?"
"I'm sorry, it just popped out."
"That's okay, I thought it was funny. How about iced tea and I'll buy some Pepsi for next time?"
"That's fine."
She sat quietly for a few more minutes until Piper had everything situated and sat down herself. She had just put a forkful of food in her mouth when Piper started the conversation.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Bailey nodded.
"I've noticed that you don't paint your nails or wear makeup, how come?" Piper asked but then added. "Not that you need to, you have a great complexion."
Bailey chewed for a few seconds and swallowed. "I just never thought it necessary, I guess."
"Well, in your case it really isn't, I was just curious on how you come across as so feminine with so little effort."
"I wasn't aware that it took an effort."
"It's an effort for some more than others," Piper said and then whispered conspiratorially. "Nancy has to bleach the hairs above her lip or she gets a mustache."
"Really?" Bailey asked, chuckling as she conjured up a mental image of the woman with a mustache.
"Yep, would you let me paint your nails?"
"Sure."
"I rented 'Planes, Trains, and Automobiles' for after dinner. Have you seen it?"
"No."
"Great, I think you'll like it. Do you know how to two-step?"
"What's that?"
"It's a dance, I was hoping we could try it."
"I assume you know how?"
"You don't grow up in New Orleans and not learn to dance," she admonished. "I would love to teach you if ya wanna try?"
"I guess so. Can you teach me here?"
"I was thinking about going out to a club."
"What kind of a club do you go to?"
"It's a country dance, so we would go somewhere that plays that kind of music and has a dance floor," Piper said, observing the sour look on Bailey's face.
"A country music place?"
"You don't like country music I take it?"
"No."
"We don't have to go, I thought it might be fun." Piper tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
Bailey gave her a look and sighed. "Did you want to try this tomorrow night?" she asked, wondering why she caved in so quickly.
"Yeah, if you want to."
"I'll have a lash at it I guess," she said a little grumpily and Piper chuckled.
"Don't sound so enthused, you'll have fun I bet."
"Did you have a place in mind?"
"There's lots of places, did you wanna try a regular club or try to find one in Midtown?"
"What's the difference?"
"A regular club would be a straight club and one in Midtown would be a gay club. Which one would you feel most comfortable going to?"
"Doesn't matter, you choose."
"I would've thought you'd choose a gay club over a straight one."
"Why?"
"Because two females dancing with one another in a straight club can gather a lot of attention."
"I don't care what people think," Bailey said, spearing an olive out of her salad.
"You really don't do you?"
"Why would I?"
"Because, one can sometimes face difficulty or prejudice being in a relationship with a member of their own sex."
"That's not an issue with me, Piper."
"Really, why?"
Bailey rolled a mouthful of spaghetti up on her fork and considered. "As far as I'm concerned, it's you that I'm attracted to and your gender really doesn't come into play. Categorizing myself as straight or gay would be a waste of time. I want to be with a person, not a specific gender. That person is you and I really could care less what people think, but I do care what you think and to me that's all that matters."
"I think that's one of the more enlightened viewpoints I've listened to on the subject," Piper said. "A little naïve, perhaps," she added carefully. "A great many people would disagree with you."
"Perhaps," Bailey shrugged.
Piper watched in amusement as Bailey picked through her salad for the things she liked.
"Miss Cameron, I believe you're the most extraordinary person I've ever met. And I'm very glad that you've chosen me to spend your time with."
Bailey's eyes came up from her salad and she glanced at Piper suspiciously. "I'm glad you think so and I feel the same way, but can we tell jokes or something now? I've been pretty pleased with myself that I've not stuttered my way through the evening so far."
Piper laughed. "Okay, I know an Irish joke, wanna hear it?"
"Sure."
"Why did God invent liquor?"
Bailey shrugged her shoulders.
"So the Irish wouldn't rule the world."
"Funny," Bailey said tonelessly.
"Tough room," Piper chuckled. "You wanna try that wine now?" she asked, noting that Bailey had cleaned her plate and ate most of her salad.
"Okay."
Piper got up to collect their plates and padded to the kitchen. "Do you want me to make popcorn later?" she asked as she deposited the plates in the sink and retrieved the wine from the refrigerator.
"Sure."
Piper brought the bottle of wine and two glasses back to the table. "Are you done with your salad?"
"Yes, dinner was good, thank you."
"Anytime, and you're welcome," Piper said, collecting the rest of the plates.
"Pour us a drink and I'll be back in a sec," she said dumping the rest of the dishes in the sink and disappearing down the hallway.
She reappeared about a minute later and sat several bottles of nail polish and accessories on the table before Bailey. She seated herself and scooted her chair forward until she had the correct angle and beamed a smile.
"Ya ready?"
"I guess so."
"It'll be fun, what color would you like?"
"You choose," she said and watched amusedly as Piper scrunched up her face to consider the matter.
"I think a crimson or a pearl would look best, you agree?"
"Sure."
"Try not to be such a stick in the mud," Piper chided. "I'll go with pearl unless you have any objection?"
"I've no objection, Miss Tate," Bailey said gravely and was rewarded with a condescending look that made her chuckle.
"Lemme see a hand," Piper said with a sigh and Bailey dutifully placed her left hand on the table.
Piper took the offered hand and studied it. "You file your nails so short, how come?"
"It's practical."
"Hmmm," Piper grunted, bending to her task.
Bailey sipped her wine and watched Piper with a mixture of fascination and amusement. She noted that Piper chewed on her lower lip when she concentrated, a habit she found enormously appealing for reasons she couldn't quite explain. By the time Piper started on the other hand she was beginning to feel a little disturbed with herself, her stomach would occasionally jolt her with a flip flop and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep from looking at the woman. She studied Piper closely; committing to memory the woman's every feature. Suddenly, the reality of her situation struck her and she felt herself involuntarily shiver.
"Are you cold? I could turn the heat up a little if you like," Piper said, having felt the sudden tremor.
"No, I'm fine," Bailey said and Piper stared at her for a second before going back to work.
Bailey debated with herself furiously. If she continued to pursue a relationship with Piper, the truth would eventually have to surface and that scared her more than she thought possible. Watching Piper happily paint her nails it had occurred to her that she not only wanted a life for herself, but she wanted Piper to be a part of it. She couldn't nail down any of her emotions with certainty, but it hurt more than she thought possible to consider any alternative that didn't include her. She studied her covertly and wondered if she should just walk away now before Piper hated her or even worse, was afraid of her. She winced inwardly at the thought of seeing either of those emotions directed at her from the little redhead. Could she walk away? The answer came quickly and brought another question with it. No, she couldn't walk away, but could she bear it when Piper left? That was the question she had no idea how to answer. Never in her adult life had she felt so vulnerable and she knew that, in a very short time, she had allowed Piper to have a control over her that she couldn't mount an adequate defense against.
"What do you think?"
"About what?" Bailey asked, emerging from her thoughts.
"About your nails, goofy," Piper said, rolling her eyes. "Aren't they pretty?"
Bailey looked at her hands. "Yes, I'm sure I'll have thousands of new admirers by this time tomorrow," she speculated and grinned when Piper narrowed her eyes.
"That very well may be true, but I hope that I'm the only one you'll be admiring."
"I dunno, Nancy's kinda cute," Bailey said and laughed at the resulting scowl.
"Very funny."
"Indeed," Bailey said, swallowing nervously as Piper rose from her chair and, without warning, threw a leg over her lap to straddle her. Clamping down on the instinctual reaction to throw the weight from her, she felt herself shake slightly when Piper reached to gently free the hair from her ponytail. Her back arched in pleasure from the sensation of Piper's hands in her hair and she felt herself surrender to the attention.
"You have beautiful hair," Piper whispered in her ear, smiling at the shiver she felt underneath her.
"Uh…" Bailey managed before her mouth was covered by Piper's.
Piper tenderly chewed on Bailey's lower lip, marveling at how soft and thick the hair cascading through her hands felt. She smiled when she felt Bailey's hands find a grip on her waist and she greedily intensified her exploration of the lips and mouth under her own. She had a brilliant flash of desire accompanied by the sobering knowledge that she wanted the woman on whose lap she sat, more than she ever wanted anything in her life. The clarity of that awareness brought a very gradual halt to her attentions and she leisurely broke contact to the point of placing feather light kisses around Bailey's mouth.
Bailey cleared her throat. "Uhm… you can paint my nails anytime."
Piper snickered softly and leaned forward to snuggle against her. "I think I'm in big trouble," she whispered into the ebony tresses.
"Me too," Bailey said into Piper's shoulder, closing her eyes when she felt Piper squeeze her tightly.
Zack studied Russell carefully, spending several minutes in close observation to assure himself that the man was indeed asleep. Once satisfied, he took a tube of superglue from his shirt pocket and liberally coated one side of a nickel, taking great pains to hold the coin by the edges so as not to get any on his fingers. Earlier, he had discovered the tube of glue quite by accident as he rummaged through the trunk for something to keep him occupied, since the object of their surveillance was apparently planning on spending the evening within the confines of house down the street. He had found the glue, brand new and unopened, in some of the gear they carried around and a plan for revenge had formed immediately.
Taking a deep breath and holding it, he leaned over stealthily and as gently as he could, placed the nickel on the end of Russell's nose. Pleased with the outcome, with one finger he applied a minute amount of pressure on the coin to cement it in place. He took a moment to expel his breath and to pleasurably observe the results of his labors before he returned to his side of the vehicle, giving free reign to the shit-eating grin that would not be denied.
He was terribly tempted to stir his partner awake so he could further enjoy his revenge, but stifled the urge to give the glue time to solidly affix itself to the skin of Russell's nose. He knew he would catch hell from Mike later, but it didn't phase him. He believed that if he was going to be forced to wear the deformity that was his current hairstyle, Russell should have an accompanying defect to display just as proudly. Irrationally delighted, he made himself comfortable and waited patiently for Russell to awake
IV
Ah, now I don't hardly know her,
But I think I can love her- T. James
Nancy awoke to the signals her bladder was urgently sending and quickly padded down the hallway for the bathroom. She emerged a few minutes later and paused at the end of the hall when she noticed the two forms asleep on the couch. She took note of the empty bottle of wine and the half-eaten bowl of popcorn and smiled to herself. Bailey had her legs curled up under her and had an arm around Piper's shoulders who was fast asleep in her lap. Despite her misgivings, she grudgingly had to admit to herself that they made a cute couple. Her musings ended abruptly when Bailey raised her head and turned eyes in her direction.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you guys were still out here."
"It's okay," Bailey said around a yawn. "I should probably go."
"She seems to have you trapped," Nancy said with a look at Piper. "Don't worry she sleeps like the dead, you can move her."
"Where's her room?" Bailey asked, disentangling herself from the sleeping body.
"Down the hall, second door on the right," Nancy said as Bailey stood up and stretched.
"What time does she usually set her clock for?"
"Six," Nancy answered and watched curiously as Bailey leaned down and very gently lifted Piper off the couch and into her arms.
"I'll put her to bed and be off, if that's alright?"
Nancy just nodded as she watched Bailey navigate around the furniture and proceed down the hallway. She shook her head a little bit in confusion; Bailey wasn't a large person or obviously muscular but she had lifted and carried Piper as though she were as light as a kitten. There was just something about the woman that set off her warning bells. It was clear that she was more than she seemed and she wondered if Piper really knew what she was getting involved in. She knew that she couldn't express her concerns to Piper again until she had more to go on, she was already very protective and another attempt at conversation on the subject would probably turn ugly. With a sigh, she ambled to the fridge and popped open a Coke, deciding that she would just wait and see how things turned out.
Bailey gave the half open door to Piper's bedroom a gentle kick and smiled upon entering. There was crap everywhere, the bed was a crumpled mass of sheets and clothes were strewn about the room haphazardly. She gently lay her burden on the bed and after the small annoyance of straightening a crumpled sheet, she pulled it over Piper to tuck her in. She made a slow circle of the room in curiosity, lingering for several moments over the numerous family photographs that covered the surface of Piper's dresser. Noting wistfully that Piper had handsome and close knit family, she sighed and took a seat on the edge of the bed.
She had surprised herself earlier by actually falling asleep. As soon as the movie started Piper had wasted no time in snuggling up close to her and after a few handfuls of popcorn and a glass of wine, she had fallen asleep in her lap. She had watched the sleeping face in fascination for a long time before she managed to drift off herself, sleeping soundly until the opening of Nancy's door had awoken her. She looked down at Piper, who hadn't stirred in the slightest, and tenderly brushed the hair out of her face. Marveling at how many changes had taken place within herself in just the last few days. Fifteen years of violence and finally she had found, in the form a diminutive redhead, something worth waking up for. It was a revelation that both scared and delighted her and she experienced an overwhelming sense of protectiveness for the soundly sleeping woman.
Suddenly remembering that Nancy was awake and probably wondering what she was doing she stood up and set the alarm on the clock next to the bed. She turned to go but hesitated, leaning quickly over Piper and brushing her lips over her cheek.
"I'll see you later," she whispered and Piper stirred slightly.
"Okay, I love you," Piper mumbled.
Bailey's eyes widened and she straightened stiffly in shock. She stood without breathing for a long moment in an attempt to compose herself and analyze the tightening in her chest. With an audible expulsion of breath, she decided that an escape was in order and quietly fled the room. She stopped at the sofa to put on her sneakers, glad that Nancy was nowhere in sight. She donned her jacket and locked the front door on her way out, swiftly going for her cigarettes as soon as the door closed behind her. She inhaled deeply as she dazedly made her way to the car and mechanically opened the door. She sat down behind the wheel, rolled down the window, and stared unseeingly through the windshield until the forgotten cigarette began to heat her fingers. She flipped the butt out the window and, completely on autopilot, she backed the car out of the driveway and drove off down the street.
"Russell," Zack said as soon as he saw the woman get in her car.
"What?" Russell said groggily as he snapped awake.
"She's getting ready to move."
Russell reached up to start the car, brushing absently at his nose with the other hand. Upon encountering a foreign object, he paused and shot a quick glance at Zack, who to his dismay, was grinning widely.
"What the hell?" he said as both hands came up to investigate.
"Looks like ya got a little something on your nose there."
Russell leaned over to look at his reflection in the rearview and surprised Zack with a quick burst of laughter.
"What's this, amateur night?" Russell said, still chuckling. "I expected a little more from you, Zack my friend."
"Well, it was all I could come up with on short notice," Zack shrugged, beginning to laugh.
"Pretty sad," Russell said reaching up to remove the coin. "Owww!" he exclaimed as the skin beneath the nickel tore.
"Problems?"
"This ain't funny. What the fuck did you attach it with?"
"Superglue," Zack provided between laughs.
Russell glared at his friend and attempted to remove it from another angle. "Goddamn it," he hissed when the skin tore again and blood started to flow.
"Quit picking your nose and get on the ball, Russell. She's moving."
Russell started the car and began to follow the Barracuda. "Fuck. Give me a Kleenex or something, I have blood running down my face."
"I'm sorry," Zack said with mock sorrow. "I used the last one to clean my binoculars an hour ago."
"Asshole," he spat out, using his tie to dab at the blood. "How the fuck am I supposed to get it off?"
"It's like a Band-Aid, Russell," Zack said sagely. "If you pull it off quickly, it only stings for a second or two," he added, bursting into overjoyed laughter.
"Fuck that. It'll take the skin off with it."
"It's either that or you can tell Mike that it's a fashion statement," Zack said, falling back against his seat and laughing delightedly.
"Fuck it," Russell said, reaching up to rip the nickel from his nose with a scream and flinging the coin at Zack who merrily ducked the missile.
"Oh… my… God… that… hurt!" Russell exclaimed, pressing his tie to his nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "That was fucked up, Zack."
"Not anymore fucked up than my hair," Zack said and promptly went into another fit of hilarity. The nickel had torn off an almost perfectly circular piece of skin from the end of Russell's nose. "That's gonna be a hard scab to explain," he choked out between chuckles.
"Fuck you."